Chapter 3:

"I'm sorry for such an abrupt request, my Lord," the man said with his head down, humbled. "I would not have made it so urgent, but this trip was earlier than expected, as were the turn of events."
A holoprog image of a man in a dark black hooded cloak fizzled slightly before the humbled man. "Speak then," the dark man's voice said in a crackled and eerie tone.
He turned his head upwards, the face of a younger and cocky man met the icy stare of the dark clad man. "Well, m-my Lord, that Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is going to interfere with our plans."
"Oh really, little man? How so? I've managed to keep away from that insolent fool, but I am interested in your assumption," the man replied with a crackled worn voice that exuded darkness and anger.
"It seems, my Lord, that he is a childhood friend of Shara Lotarei. From speaking with her father, though, he never approved of their friendship, and I know I am still in his good graces," he said with a smirk. "My only fear, my Lord, is that her will get in the way of our plans. They seem very close."
The dark figure nodded, "Do not worry. Once my power is guaranteed over your planet, you will have your Shara. And we will be rid of the Jedi."
Tir nodded and lowered his head, "Yes my Lord." The transmission flickered and faded. Tir stood up grumbled as he walked to a mirror and looked at himself. Suddenly, he smacked a metallic glass vase, knocking it to the ground, in a fit of anger. Although the vase did not break, he smiled darkly at the fallen item and then turned to look at himself again in the mirror, "Yes my dear. Not only will your world be mine, but so will you." After saying these words, he shivered slightly, not quite used to the darkness invading into his being.
Even though he was a handsome, wealthy man, a descendant of a once noble house of Corulag before they were disbanded for a democratic republic, he had one weakness: he wanted things he could not get, or at least without quite a bit of effort. His family, still strong in Corulagian society, allowed for him to portray any life he chose. As a young boy he easily won over his fellow students in boarding school, becoming Student Council president for a few years as well as the institutor of various clubs and activities.
A year after the completion of his education, Tormet Lotarei came to power as Governor of Corulag. He came from a small city named Shirvan which sat amongst the Great Corti Forest, about 30 miles north of the capital city of Anatolia in the state of Circassia, the largest and most populated state on the planet. This state not only boasted the largest human population, but also considerable resources, primarily agricultural in nature, mostly due to its mild climate. Much of the land was populated with rivers and forests, hills and valleys, making it a beautiful terrain and pleasant place to live.
Thinking that this man, Tormet Loterai, was a simple man with charismatic talent, would be easy to use to future his ways, Tir jumped at the chance to be his assistant and to learn about diplomacy and politics through this man, eventually taking his place. He became sadly mistaken soon after, though.
Governor Lotarei was a simple man, true enough, being a benevolent leader by nature, but he was also a visionary by nature and a respected man. He led a perfect life and in the eyes of his people he could do no wrong. Under Tormet Lotarei, Circassia prospered.
Over the years, Tir had grown to be Tormet's personal assistant, learning the difference between a benevolent leader and a selfish dictator. The truth of the matter was that Tir wasn't like Tormet. He wanted to restore Corulag to its old glory, that of a royalty system under the leadership of a dictator: himself. He knew that with very little effort, and the disposal of a few key players, he could get what he wanted and it didn't matter. Until recently he thought everything was in his grasp; even Shara he though he could persuade. If he could persuade her father, she would fold. Lately, though, she had become bolder and headstrong.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was another issue. Tormet Loterai expressed his disdain for the man, even if he was a Jedi:

"I've never liked him, Tir. He has brought a recklessness out in Shara many times that I never approved of," he told Tir in a gruff voice.
The young man nodded to him silently.
"Try to make an effort for him not to be around. I hate to do that to her, but he'll just distract her."
Tir nodded again, "Yes, Senator, I will take care of it."

Tir shook his head out of the daze when a knock came at the door.
"Come," he yelled in an attempt at a booming voice.
Slipping through a small crack, an attractive raven-haired woman stepped into the room carrying a data disk.
"Ah Clis. So good too see you. I presume you have some information for me."
Clis nodded softly and threw the disk on Tir's desk, "That's all I could find on such short notice. You won't find a bloody thing to tarnish your Jedi's reputation," she said with a smirk.
As Tir entered the disk into his desk terminal, Clis made herself comfortable by taking off her long coat, revealing a tall lean figure set in a very tight dress. Tir perused over the information that flooded the screen and shook his head, then turned to his guest. He smiled and stood, crossing the room swiftly, then kneeling next to the chair Clis inhabited. "Clis, my dear," he said as he kissed her pale hand, "I never doubt your work. The Jedi is not a grave concern of mine. Now do you have the other information?"
Clis nodded and reached over her shoulder, pulling out another disk from her coat. After handing it to him, she smirked and spoke for the first time, "It's good that you are spending your scheming time on things other than that little chit of a woman."
Tir stood and walked back to his desk, switching the disks as he spoke, "I'm always scheming, love. And that chit of a woman can get us quite far. Besides, I think she has more to her than she is letting on."
Clis snorted softly, "She can get you quite far, Tir. I'll always be in the shadows, and you know it."
"But it's what you do best, Clis. And you know I am eternally grateful for your services."
Clis stood up and slipped into her coat. She was used to confrontations like this: Tir would be ever grateful and fawn over her until her got what he wanted. Later that night he would come to her apartment and beg forgiveness for being swept away by business. She didn't care that much anymore. She was in it for the money, not the intellectual stimulation, which, sadly enough, he lacked greatly. Silently hoping inside that one of these days someone would find out, she walked to the door. Opening it and beginning to slip out the door, she paused to give him one last jab.
"By the way, she went to the Temple," she said quickly before shutting the door. She didn't even know if he heard her; the information on the disk displayed all the juicy little secrets of the Galactic Senate's officials. Tir would be at that for days. But she liked to see him squirm and that last tidbit would fester until it finally sank in.
"I do love my work," she said aloud as she walked down the hallway to leave the Senate's office complex.